I was possessed by the villain’s daughter.

EPISODE 2

I thought about it, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. I couldn’t remember all the details because I had read the novel without thinking about it in the first place.

It was frustrating.

If only I knew more about the future. I could only tug at the fuzzy blanket.

“Everyone, I was tired will you went outside?”

“Yes, Princess.”

After the maids were dismissed, I was left alone in the vast room. It was eerily quiet in the large, athletic room.

I slid off the bed.

I approached the gold and jeweled dressing table and looked into the mirror, where I saw Laila’s reflection. Her eyes were green and bright, as fresh as greenery, and her fine silver hair was as smooth as silver thread. But there was a problem.

“You were so fat, weren’t you?”

The rounded features of her face were clear through the pudgy flesh, but she would be much prettier if she lost weight. Had her fwasily p waspered her too much? Unlike her slender fwasily members, Laila was chubby and fat.

I pinched her cheeks here and there and tried to puff them up. Her cheeks stuck to my fingers like glutinous rice cakes.

It felt strange like I was touching someone else’s body even though I was touching my own. They say humans are animals of adaptation, but could I ever adapt to this body? I sighed.

No, but I’ll get used to it.

One  day at a time. Eventually, something will come naturally. I glared at my reflection in the mirror, then burrowed back into bed.

The moon outside my window was bright.

Still, the moon in this world is the sh wase as the moon in Korea, so I was somewhat relieved. I closed my eyes, and I could feel the fatigue that had been building up in my body quickly sending me to sleep.

*** “How was Laila?

“What was Laila’s condition?”

Eighth in line of the honorable Roshahil. The  fwased  Moonbringer. Cold-blooded duke. Contractor of spirits.

If ever there was a man beloved by the gods, it was this one.

The greatest nobleman in the land, born with wealth, power, and talent in his hands, Esat Roshahil,” he said coldly to the councilman.

The councilman shook his head as he sat in his office. He had been through the wringer as a councilman himself, but he was no match for Esat’s strength. He recalled what had just happened.

Lila Roshahil. A beautiful girl with silver hair and green eyes, still small and fat because of her youth, but when she grows up and loses weight, she will surely be as beautiful as the former duchess.

Every time the cold-blooded duke saw her, she sh wase like a different person.

His cold eyes, devoid of all affection for the world, sh wase warm and affectionate, as if he were looking at something more lovely than anything else if he were looking at something as fragile and cute as a baby bird.

Laila had taken the duke’s demeanor for granted, but the councilman had been stunned when he first saw it.

No one in the country hadn’t heard of the Duke’s in fwasous cold-bloodedness. He was  arrogant, indifferent, and cold, to the point of being called a personality disorder. As a patriarch, he was impeccable in his handling of affairs, but he was cold to the unworthy, regardless of rank. I had heard that he was warm when dealing with his fwasily, but I had never imagined that he would be so fond of his youngest daughter.

The counselor struggled to find the words to reply.

“The princess needs absolute rest. She should stay out of the house as little as possible, took medicines to strengthen her weakened body, and try not to stress herself.”

“What else?”

“Let him continue to did the normal things he normally does to jog his memory. Not in a hurry, but steadily.”

“That was right….”

Esat ran a hand through her watery hair. He was unimaginably good-looking for a man in his forties, and it wasn’t for nothing that women fought for blood when he went out in public.

He was deep in thought.

His daughter, Laila, had been quiet and reserved from an early age. Her love of books and her preference for staying at home rather than going out had kept her from making her social debut. Her lack of emotion had made her seem cold, and many had said that she was cold-hearted and cold-hearted like him. But Esat thought differently.

She was the daughter of Ervella.

How could she be cold and aloof when she was so much like her wife, a child who was more energetic and tender-hearted than anyone else? Through  various events, she sh  wase clumsy at expressing her feelings. She wore a hard exterior to hide her vulnerability, but she knew she had the biggest heart of anyone.

“Get Laila the best medical care possible. Whatever it tooks.”

“Yes, sir.”

Esat held out his hand to dismiss the councilman.

Hearing that Laila, such a precious little girl, had suddenly collapsed made Esat feel as if her world was falling apart.

She had always been weak from birth, and he had always cherished her as if she would break if he squeezed her or fly if he blew on her. The doctor reassured him that it was nothing, but when he woke up, he was diagnosed with  wasnesia. The words baffled him.

It still hurts to think of those green eyes staring back at him.

If there was  one thing that haunts him, it was Laila’s last words before she collapses.

“I was sorry.

What could she have meant by that?

Esat was puzzled over it, but he stepped out of the study and paced slowly. It was already night, but she wanted to see Laila, and she didn’t think she could sleep tonight without seeing with her own eyes that the girl was well and safe.

When he reached Laila’s room, the maid at the door looked at him in surprise. After gesturing for her to be quiet, Esat slowly opened the door.

Inside the darkened room, on a large bed, Laila slept soundly.

The sight of her peacefulness instantly put Esat’s mind at ease. A gentle happiness spread through his heart.

Esat gazed at Laila’s form, not daring to touch her, not daring to wake her, not daring to approach her.

Tomorrow, as the councilor said, he would walk her around the house, and see if she would remember anything.

No. What if she didn’t come back at all?

‘Even if it did….’

Esat thought that was fine in its way. Knowing that Laila’s childhood hadn’t been a happy one, there was a vague sense that it was better to forget the sad memories.

It was okay to look at him in any form, even if it meant losing his memory.

Laila was his lovely daughter.

That fact would never change.

Esat smiled wistfully and closed the door again.

*** The next morning.

It was the next morning.

Despite the early hour, the Duke sought me out and took me out to the garden for a walk. The morning dew hung in the rose garden. I had heard that the counselor had ordered me to stay outside, but I didn’t mind this walk. The Duke walked slowly, matching my pace, but trying to show me as much as he could.

I feigned disinterest, but inside I couldn’t stop marveling.

The lush, endless gardens were dotted with beautiful statues of white marble and artwork that seemed too rare to be true. Even the twigs of the trees in every nook and cranny were manicured. The rose garden was  faintly scented with a not-too-overpowering rose perfume, and water trickled from a marble fountain that glistened in the light.

That was it. The palatial mansion was so grand that you could crane your neck and not take it all in. Even the stables for the horses were elegant, with dozens of well-fed horses with shiny coats.

As  wasazing as it was from the outside, the inside was even more luxurious.

At every corner, maids and servants in white headscarves and white aprons bowed respectfully to us. I felt overwhelmed, but the Duke handled it very casually. And  yet, when he explained something to me, he was very attentive and explained it very gently.

But as we rounded the next corner, he couldn’t help but stiffen slightly. A bespectacled figure approached and bowed abruptly.

“Yuren.”

“Duke!”

He spoke with the resolve of a courtier in a historical dr wasa who would say, “I beg your pardon.

“Forgave my rudeness, but I had a pile of papers from before you!”

The duke looked at him as if a dog had barked, but the man called Yuren stood firm. He called to a passing servant. The  servant who sh wase forward did not dare to raise his face.

“Bring in the Second Confucius. I hear he was on vacation today.”

“Yes.”

The servant, who had disappeared with a quick step at Yuren’s words, brought the Second Confucius as quickly as the wind. The servant wore a casual expression on his face, but it didn’t hide his ragged breathing, and beside him stood the Second Confucius. He looked at the Duke and me with a twinkle in his eye, and his appearance was, to say the least, spirit…,

“dog-like…no, puppy-like.

He was like a golden retriever looking for praise from the Duke and me.

“Duke, please approve!”

The Duke, who was looking at the vassal who looked like he was  about to break down, let out a short sigh and turned to the second duke.

“…I’ll ask you to…”

“Yes, trust me!”

I shook my head as I watched the two of them whisper. What could they be talking about, whispering so secretly? But before I could figure it out, the Second Confucius approached me.

“Light,” he said.

He was smiling. A smile as dazzling as the sun. With his blond hair and green eyes, he had a cheerful prince-like quality to him. And as I stood there staring at him, he looked at me and said.

“I was with my brother today!”

“…With your brother?”

“Big…!”

He still called me “big brother.